Serpent Rising
by Hawk Striker
Summary: A.U. "Revenge is a dish best served cold." He took these words to heart. From that day on, vengeance became his one and only faithful companion. It was his salvation; the only one to tell the truths about Life and Death. And he lives to carry out its laws and wishes. From the ashes of loss and regret, a serpent has risen and conquered. This is his story.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the things found in Harry Potter or Danny Phantom, and nor do I take any credit for it.

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**Serpent Rising**

_By Hawk Striker_

**Summary:** 'Revenge is a dish that is best served cold.' He took these words to heart. Danny Fenton lost everything he cherished the day he cheated on the exam. A warning was sent his way beforehand, but he refused to listen. Now, he has paid the price. Being unable to prevent the Nasty Burger explosion, he was sent to Vladimir Masters' custody as his parent's last will. But that was far from what he wanted. He did not want pity nor anyone's love lavished on him. He wanted vengeance. Vengeance for those he loved and lost; vengeance against those that have caused him pain throughout the years. But one day, a shocking truth about his true heritage is revealed. For once, things started going his way. The wizarding world is in for a huge surprise. The last Heir of Slytherin returns.

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**Prologue**

_"Deep vengeance is the daughter of deep silence."_

_- Vittorio Alfieri_

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His heartstrings convulsed and trembled. As each second arrived and passed, the same set of motions would repeat itself, and his whole being will find itself constricted and being twisted all over again in the most agonizing and brutal manner possible. Bolts of electricity will shoot through every vein connected to his nervous system that extended throughout his body, and their return course will be leaving his neuron networks in disarray.

His consciousness was dangerously tuning in and tuning out. The images of the real world his retinas have managed to capture and send through his optic nerves were hectic shades of black, white and grey. Though he could see random jumbles of shapes and spots, his desperate efforts and attempts to decipher their personal meanings were all lost on him. The cerebral function of his brain was failing and shutting down, that much he knew, but the worse fact of all, he was indifferent to it. After all, what has one to gain from delaying Death's seductive embrace a moment longer? Is it not better to feel the blessing of absolute bliss than the scorching touch of grief?

A small, seemingly insignificant voice shouted at him; shouted at him to stop what he was doing and snap out of it, that the thing that he was going through now was not normal.

Normal. _Normal_. He scoffed weakly at the word. Though he could not recall much of his memories anymore, sometime in his life, not too long ago, he had this distinct hunch that he stopped being 'normal'. He stopped being what everyone was trying to see him as. He even distantly remembered, that there were many that discovered that ugly fact about him, and unfortunately the word 'many' meant a lot of people. And the most vile and abhorrent thing of all, they spat on his face for it. Many would try shoving that ugly fact in his face, as if they didn't want him to forget it just yet. Every second, every minute, and every day of his miserable life. He was abhorred, he was shunned, he was ignored, he was hated. Hated. Hated. Hated.

Hated. Oh, how he detested the word with every fiber of his being.

Coward. Filthy. Lowlife. Pathetic. Liar. Many more of their cutting words managed to worm their way into his already unstable mind. Each one slapping him, taunting him, and brutally injuring what was left of his debilitating sanity.

For once in his life, just once, was he not able to ask for some love or recognition in retribution of what he did? He saved their lives multiple times, for Merlin's sake! Each passing day, whether it was day or night, he would take extra precautions that the town was peaceful. That the town was safe and sheltered from the constant blows that his arch nemesis could manage to afflict. His life as a half-specter, half-human, was not an easy one. Truth be told, he did hide his...differences. But did he not hide it out of consideration for their safety?

He sneered. Today's society had been so busy fixating on its own bloody needs that it failed to look out for the needs of a particular person. How the citizens of today have warped the idea of being normal!

An extremely restrictive and intrusive substance lodged itself in the opening of his windpipe, and he was seized by panic. Curious finger digits dug and scrambled at the lump in his throat, and he felt the second round of electricity coursing through his nervous system. An immense weight settled on his skull and crowded his mind, the pressure encouraging his unstable condition to worsen further. A strangled sound escaped his throat.

He could hear noises; he could hear their jeers, their jokes, their slurs being uttered at the lobe of his ear. Clearly and strongly as if it were happening at that very moment. One insulting word after another, flowing together, chained together. His face contorted in a grimace. And then a more powerful voice, one that managed to successfully single itself out from the crowd of noises, uttered a single word that dealt the last crucial blow to his convulsing heartstrings.

Powerless.

A gasp of surprise escaped from his lips. Cold numbness exploded and spread throughout his being. Originating from his chest, the cold ice had successfully made his nervous system freeze. Blood refused to flow into the crucial parts of his body, and it was shutting down at an immense speed. He attempted moving his limbs, but they still lay where they were, unmoving. The cold numbness is now aiming to target its assault on his brain, and he is utterly unable to stop it.

Until he felt it.

Electricity.

Something clenched and trembled beneath his sternum. He held his breath. It was weak, almost unnoticeable, but it was still there. Another tremble came and this time it was significantly stronger than the last. All of his attention was fixated on that one captivating motion. Another tremble occurred and his whole body jerked.

Warmth assaulted his brain and his senses, enveloping and trapping him in its seductive embrace that the instantaneous action left his recovering mind in a deep state of shock. Images of the world once again rushed through his retinas and optic nerves, and he found himself recognizing colors and shapes, despite how hazy they appeared. He could feel his blood traveling through his veins again, and the weight in his skull had lifted. More trembling motions came from deep within his ribcage, and he noticed that they were now falling back into their rhythmic pattern and usual strength.

A horde of images assaulted his mind, making him freeze in disbelief; his memories came rushing back.

But they were not any of the memories he wanted to keep. Not what he wanted to be able to recall. No. The images that sprung to the forefront of his mind were the ones that he dreaded the most. He detested them, along with the emotions that came with it. Those emotions were so strong, so raw, so intense, so _unrestricted_. So unrestricted it made it unpredictable. It made him feel powerless.

Powerless. Powerless over life, powerless over his actions, powerless over his goals, powerless over others of his kind. Powerless over his own destiny.

He felt a frown descend upon his face; why did Death refuse to embrace him with its seductive caress? Why was he still _alive?_ Death never turned down an opportunity to strip a vessel's connection to life's agonies. As far as it was concerned, it in fact took joy in it.

What did he do to deserve even Death's rejection?

A sneer contorts his facial features. Fine, then. If that was how it chose to play it. If he lives, he will live with the only goal of pleasing it. To persuade it to welcome him again. To grasp him tightly and lull him away from Life's agonizing moments. However, this time around, things will be different. Majorly different.

He will never be powerless again.

No one will dare treat him like filth. No one will dare call him scum of the earth. No one will dare manipulate nor influence his actions. No one will dare evoke such filthy and lowly emotions from him again. No more. Everyone has had their turn to bask in the delightful caress of power. It was now his turn. To play dirty. And make all those that had wronged him pay for their transgressions.

He will cling on to power. And he shall not divide it amongst anyone else.

A heated and intense sensation settles in his chest, radiating throughout his body. His whole being felt heavy and he once again found himself within its seductive embrace. Its warmth distorted his vision and made him feel light-headed. The sides of his lips pulls back in a grin, and pure delight slithers down his spine.

How sweet of a friend is Revenge. Man's most faithful and loyal friend.

They will pay. Oh yes, they will. Big time.

Daniel laughed.

"_Sweet revenge. Here I come!"_

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_**And there is the prologue. I will be working on Chapters 1 to 3 in the next little while. It might take more than a few weeks for the next update to come. If something happens to prevent me from updating the story, I will be posting an author's note to alert you all.**_

_**Constructive criticism is appreciated and encouraged. I will often do my best to reply to reviews, but I cannot guarantee that I will be able to get back to you all. However, if you deliberately throw personal insults about me or my written works, I will not tolerate it. If anyone of you have any questions about the general storyline or the characters, send me a PM. I'll be delighted to fill you in with more information.**_

_**On a final note, I am currently looking for a beta-reader for Serpent Rising. PM me if you are interested. **_

_**To everyone that took the time to read this, I thank you. **_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Hawk Striker**_


End file.
